Ella's Wish (5 page)

Clara sat up so fast the covers slid off the bed. Ella laughed quietly, the sound echoing in the large bedroom.

“Then I’m gettin’ out of bed quickly!” Clara declared.

“That would be a change.”

Clara ignored her and slid her feet to the floor. “Dora and the boys are choring by themselves.”

“They have less to do with a quarter of the cows dry,” Ella said. “Otherwise I don’t suppose Mamm would have let you come.”

“What’s for breakfast?” Clara reached for her dress, which was draped over the dresser.

Ella smiled and placed her hand on the doorknob. “We can fix anything you want because this is our special day. It’s just you and me. The morning is ours. Then I really need to get you back home since Mamm probably has housework aplenty for you.”

“Scrambled eggs,” Clara declared, her spirits undaunted.

“So let’s do it,” Ella declared, caught up in the moment. “Scrambled eggs and what else?”

“Oatmeal.”

“Just plain oatmeal? Is that all? And on your special morning.”

“They go together,” Clara said. “Scrambled eggs are
gut
too, even if Daett says
Da Hah
made the yoke and white separate and that they weren’t intended to be mixed up before the stomach saw them.”

Ella laughed. “That’s just Daett’s reasoning because he doesn’t like them scrambled. You know that. He eats cake and bread just fine, and they have the eggs all mixed up.”

“I guess so,” Clara said. “I guess he can’t see the eggs in the cake batter.”

Daett’s opinion on all matters carried weight for all of them, and Ella supposed this would always be so.
Will my news about Eli’s caper have a similar end? Will Eli finally listen? Perhaps I should have spoken up sooner. The weight of Daett’s opinion might have persuaded Eli from his unwise actions with the
Englisha
girl
. Still, she dreaded the upcoming conversation at home later in the day.

“I’ll get the fire going,” she said, leaving the bedroom door open behind her.

The rays of the morning sun would soon warm the kitchen through the large living room windows, a feature Ella had requested when she instructed Daniel about the kitchen layout all those many months ago. When the house was rebuilt after the fire, she forgot to mention the kitchen layout again, but Daniel had not forgotten, perhaps for reasons other than family ones.

What a shame Daniel had to go and muddle things up. Arlene might very well not take him back if she ever finds out. The boy has problems, greater than I’d imagined, but I’ve got my own
, she reminded herself,
and so too does my family
.

Ella stood in front of the cold stove, ready to make the fire but discovered the firebox was empty. That was one of the many things that had been forgotten yesterday.

“I’m going outside to get wood,” she hollered toward the bedroom. Clara opened the door fully dressed and nodded.

Ella opened the front door and stepped outside. All around her the first streaks of dawn lit the sky. There was no red in the color of the sunrise, just the pure light of a beautiful day without a cloud in sight. She took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. With summer well on its way, the farmers could use the rain soon. The gardens needed the rain too. She would not have a garden this year, but for certain, she would have one next summer.

The light was just bright enough to see by, and Ella found her way around the corner of the still unfamiliar house. She looked everywhere near the wood pile but could find no ax. It must still be in the barn. With quick steps she walked toward the building. She pushed open the barn door, and the horse whinnied heartily.

“Good to see you,” she said, laughing.
Why am I talking to my horse?
Likely because they already had a friendship of sorts, for which she was deeply thankful. A disagreeable driving horse or one who balked would have been a heavy burden to bear—and another horse would then need to be purchased at a cost she couldn’t afford.

New driving horses were always a gamble of sorts.

“We can drive anything,” Eli and Monroe often boasted, but she doubted their tale.

All the horses they ever drove had been hand selected by Daett, and so they didn’t qualify as evidence for Eli and Monroe’s theories.

“Will you come along to the sale barn and select mine?” Ella had asked her dad.

“You know I would,” he said, shaking his head, “but I just can’t get away today. Eli can go along, though.”

“Yah, I can take care of it,” Eli said, delighting his father.

“Like I trust you,” Ella had told him with a touch of sarcasm, but he came anyway, sure of his prowess.

“That one,” Eli said, pointing toward a high-spirited gelding prancing into the ring, led tightly by its handler. “It will outrace the best of them on Sunday evenings. It will last you for years with plenty of speed and stamina.”

“I told you I don’t trust you,” Ella had said much to his chagrin. Thankfully there were other opinions available. She left Eli and walked across the bleachers to where Daniel stood with his dad.

“What do you think?” she had asked the man who would have been her father-in-law. “I need a good driving horse, and Eli’s got some high-spirited thing in mind for me. I don’t want one that runs away from me or won’t go when I want it to either.”

“We just saw a nice gelding back in the barn. Number 305,” Daniel said, and his dad nodded in agreement. “The price may go a little high, but the horse is worth every penny.”

“Like a good man,” Daniel’s dad said. “I think you’re right son.”

Ella had followed Daniel’s advice, to the consternation of her brother.

“Every other horse will pass that one on the road,” Eli said, his nose turned up while she bid.

Ella smiled at the memory. He, of course had been wrong. The little gelding had plenty of speed.

Ella finally found the ax and walked back behind the house.
Daniel had been so right about the horse. How could he, then, be so wrong about my feelings? Have I ever thoughtlessly encouraged him?
Last night the question had seemed answered, but now the strangeness of it all came to her again. She stopped and looked long at the dawning sky.
My relationship with Daniel has always been that of a brother—Aden’s brother. Never have I given him reason to think otherwise
.

Ella sighed, placed the first piece of wood on the chopping block, and brought the ax down.
The world is a strange place, and people don’t always do what I expect them to do. God doesn’t always do what I expect, and so how can earthen vessels, as the preachers says, be held to a higher standard?
She opened up the little doorway on the side of the house and tossed the pieces of wood inside. They landed with a thump.

Clara’s faint voice called from inside, “Shall I start the fire?”

“You’ll be needing kindling,” Ella hollered back. “I’ll split some in a minute.”

“Yah,” Clara answered.

With her ax in hand, Ella carefully took little slivers off the sides of a block of wood. Her left hand held the block firmly in place as her thumb and fingers wrapped around the side. The ax rose and fell, and she trembled slightly. She had always disliked chopping kindling. One slip and the ax struck one’s hand, laying the flesh wide open.

Dora and Ella could have left the cutting of kindling to their dad or to Eli and Monroe, but they chose to do it themselves. It was a part of their world and, thus, worthy of mastery. Still, Ella’s hand twitched with fear, even after all these years. The ax was so large, the wood piece became ever smaller, and her hand was always just inches away.

After a few more chops, she finished and tossed the little pieces through the doorway. She then walked around the corner of the house and set the ax inside the porch. She stopped for a moment again and studied the just-risen sun over the valley. It glowed red now, flaming large with still no clouds in sight. Peace filled her, even with the knowledge of what the day might hold. God was still in charge of His world. Her faith declared it, and her heart refused to abandon the belief.

Clara had the fire going when Ella entered the kitchen. The flames already reached out greedily for more fuel. Ella checked over Clara’s shoulder and was satisfied things had been done correctly.
Now, everything will be fine just so long as the chimney doesn’t burn down. Wouldn’t that be something! I certainly wouldn’t want to burn down the house on the very first full day here
. Ella pushed the thought aside and went to retrieve the eggs from the basement. The stair boards were brand new and wider than their basement stairs at home.

“The new codes require it,” Daniel had said when she noticed the difference.

The eggs wouldn’t keep long in her basement, even back in the darkest corner of the root cellar where a patch of concrete had been left out. Eventually she would need ice stored here, covered with sawdust, but for now, eggs and other perishables could be kept in small quantities.

Ella selected what she wanted and went quickly up the steps, walked to the kitchen, and set the eggs on the counter. Clara immediately began cracking the eggs into a bowl. After she cracked the half dozen eggs, she whipped them vigorously with the hand beater and added salt and pepper. With a twirl of her hand, she poured them into the pan and over the dab of melting butter. The pan sizzled and popped. Clara split the eggs into smaller chunks with the hand spatula. Then, only minutes later, she flipped the results out of the pan.

“Now isn’t that the way to make eggs?” Clara’s eyes glowed. “This is truly fit for kings and queens.”

Ella laughed. “I think I do agree with you, but you’ll never convince Daett, let me promise you that.”

“It’s enough that I convince you,” Clara said, smacking her lips.

From how the result looked on the plate, Clara knew how to make scrambled eggs. The water boiled moments later, and Ella poured in the oatmeal, stirring slowly so the mixture wouldn’t stick on the bottom. When the oatmeal was ready, Ella waved her hand toward the table and asked, “Shall we eat? The sisters two!”

Clara giggled her answer and sat down. After a silent prayer, Ella waited for Clara to start.

“You taste them first,” Clara said.

Ella raised her eyebrows. Clara nodded sharply. Ella shrugged, placed a sample of eggs onto her plate, and then took a taste.

“Not as good as fried eggs but good for scrambled eggs,” she teased.

Clara relaxed and took a large helping of eggs, pulling them onto the plate with her fork, then filled her oatmeal bowl, and placed a big dab of brown sugar on top. Carefully she stirred in milk and then buttered a piece of bread.

“It’s good,” Ella said. “It really is.”

“I’m going to just take my time,” Clara said. She took her first bite of eggs and chewed slowly while holding a thick slice of well-buttered, homemade bread in the other hand. “Mmmm, this couldn’t be better.”

“I think I do agree,” Ella said, her eyes turning to the living room window as a buggy came up the road from the south. The horse trotted slowly against the grade, passing the house and moving on down the road. It was a delightful sight—and sound. This was going to be home for her. She could begin to feel it.

The sisters finished at the same time, and as Ella washed the dishes, Clara swept the kitchen floor and made sure the stove was properly banked. They walked out together to harness the horse, which had stuck his head over the stall door and was glad to see them. Clara rubbed his nose while Ella threw the harness on and tightened the straps. His bridle went on easily—another of his good points. Horses could be downright stubborn when it came to such things. Nasty ones clenched their teeth or shook their heads from side to side.

Ella led him outside while Clara shut the barn door behind them.

“He’s a nice horse,” Clara said, holding up the shafts of the buggy.

“Daniel picked a good one,” Ella agreed.

“He’s
gut
with such things.”

“Yah, he is,” Ella said.
Would Clara still think Daniel was gut if she knew about his visit last night? Clara is a little young for such information. Likely she would blame me for a lost opportunity rather than Daniel for his muddled state of mind. I guess Daniel’s visit best remain my secret
.

Clara climbed in and held the reins as the horse stood patiently until Ella had climbed in.

“Getup,” she said softly, slapping the reins. The gelding threw his head in the air and took off with a jaunty air.

“He is a nice horse,” Clara said, smiling.

“A real nice horse,” Ella said as they pulled out of the driveway, wondering whether everyone had as many secrets as she did.

Seven

T
hey drove south and turned east at the river. A fog hung heavy along the banks, making a mist that increased the early summer morning chill. Ella searched for and found the light buggy blanket under the seat. Clara pulled it up well over her knees.

“I don’t like this spooky weather,” she whispered.

“It’s just the clouds come down low.” Ella smiled. “Aden always liked a fog along the river, and I think I learned to enjoy it from him.”

“Not everyone’s like Aden.”

“I know,” Ella said, feeling her mood dip. She slapped the reins, and the horse responded quickly enough by settling into a steady climb up from the river. They broke out of the mist to see the crest of Seager Hill in front of them.

Her parents’ place sat on the ridge, surrounded by Amish farms on either side. A sweep of the valley opened toward the east and west to the low mountains. Ella had always loved the place.

“Mamm will be lookin’ for us with all the work that’s to be done,” Clara said.

“I know.” Ella slapped the reins again. “I think I’ll stay awhile and help out. Perhaps I can make up for the use of you last night.”

“I wanted to stay,” Clara said, “and I hope Mamm lets me come some more—even often.”

Ella agreed with a nod of her head, pulled to a stop at the bottom of the valley, and then turned left. The horse slowed on the climb up the hill, but Ella was glad to see he wasn’t winded as they pulled into the driveway.